Page 42 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

Queen

The pounding on my door yanked me from a dreamless sleep, my body jerking upright like I’d been shocked. My heart hammered against my ribs, that familiar spike of anxiety shooting through me before I even knew what was happening.

“Shit,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and trying to orient myself.

My apartment was bathed in afternoon light, the shadows long across my hardwood floors.

I’d only meant to close my eyes for twenty minutes, but the weight of everything: Jupiter’s death, the club being shut down, my fight with Cannon.

It had all dragged me under like an anchor.

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. I swung my legs off the couch, my neck stiff from the awkward position I’d fallen asleep in. My phone had slipped between the couch cushions. I fished it out, squinting at the screen.

Three missed calls from Cannon. Two text messages.

We need to talk. I was wrong.

Pick up your damn phone, Queen. This is important.

My heart did a stupid little flip in my chest. After our fight, I hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon. Pride told me to ignore him.

I glanced at the messages again. My finger hovered over the reply button when I heard the front door open, followed by ZaZa’s voice, bright and cheerful.

“Daddy! I didn’t know you were coming by today.”

Javi? What the hell was he doing here?

I scrambled off the couch, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

I must have looked a mess. I was still in yesterday’s clothes, makeup smeared across my face like war paint.

The last person I wanted to see me like this was Javi.

And after Cannon beat his ass the other day, I was very confused as to why he was at my house.

“Just thought I’d check on my girls,” I heard him say, that smooth charm coating his words like honey. “Where’s your mom?”

“Sleeping, I think. She had a rough night.”

I grabbed my phone, quickly typing a response to Cannon: At home. Just woke up. I’ll call you in a bit.

“I’ll be out in a second!” I yelled, panic surging through me. I couldn’t let Javi see me looking this wrecked.

I dashed to the bathroom, where I washed my face and tamed my hair into a ponytail.

A quick swipe of tinted moisturizer, mascara, and lip gloss, and I looked almost human again. I slipped out of last night’s clothes and into a pair of black leggings and a purple sports bra.

Javi stood in my living room like he owned the place, that familiar cocky stance that used to make me weak but now just made me tired. The bruises from Cannon’s beating were still visible.

“What are you doing here unannounced?” I asked, keeping my voice even despite the irritation building inside me.

ZaZa was hovering nearby, staring at Javi’s face with open curiosity. “Daddy, what happened to your face?”

“Nothing, baby girl. Just a little altercation at work,” he lied smoothly. “Listen, can I talk to your mother alone for a minute?”

ZaZa glanced between us, then shrugged. “Sure. I need to finish getting ready anyway. I got that job interview at the boutique in an hour, and then Marcus and I are hitting up that new restaurant in SoHo.”

I couldn’t resist the jab. “I thought your father was going to hook you up with that receptionist job at his precinct?”

Javi had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Still working on it. You know how bureaucracy is.”

“Right,” I said, not bothering to hide my skepticism.

ZaZa rolled her eyes and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with Javi.

As soon as she was gone, Javi’s friendly facade melted away, replaced by a smirk that made my skin crawl. “Heard your club got shut down last night. Overdose on the premises. That’s tough.”

“What do you want, Javi?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Just checking on you. That’s what family does.” His eyes gleamed with malice. “Though I’m guessing it was probably that thug boyfriend of yours selling drugs in your club. Those ex-con types never really change.”

The accusation hit like a slap. “You need to get the hell out of my house. Now.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just thought you should know your boy’s back in jail. Got arrested last night for beating his sister half to death. Domestic violence. Nasty stuff.”

My blood turned to ice. “You’re lying.”

“I was there for the arrest myself.” His smile widened. “You should get back with a real man, Queen. Someone respectable. Upstanding. Someone who can protect you instead of dragging you down.”

Something snapped inside me. I moved to the bookshelf, reaching behind my collection of Toni Morrison novels where I kept my .380 hidden. The weight of it felt right in my hand as I pointed it directly at Javi’s chest.

“I said get out.”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t move. “You wouldn’t, again.”

“Try me.” My hand was steady, rage making everything crystal clear. “You come into my home spreading lies, trying to manipulate me? I’m done with your games.”

“You pull that trigger, and next time I won’t lie for you,” he hissed, backing toward the door. “I will snitch on you this time. You’ll go to prison, Queen. Think about ZaZa.”

I adjusted my aim slightly to the left and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the apartment, splintering the doorframe inches from his head.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelped, ducking.

“The next one won’t miss,” I promised, my voice deadly calm despite the thunder of my heart. “Stay away from me and my daughter.”

Javi scrambled for the door, his face contorted with rage. “You dumb bitch! Throwing everything away for some young dick. You’ll regret this!”

The door slammed behind him, and I lowered the gun, my hands starting to shake as the adrenaline ebbed.

“Mom! What happened? Was that a gunshot?” ZaZa burst into the living room, her eyes wild with fear.

I quickly tucked the gun into the back of my leggings, trying to steady my breathing. “Your father and I had a disagreement.”

“A disagreement? You fired a gun at him!” She looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and maybe I had.

“He had it coming,” I snapped, my hands still shaking with rage. “Your father thinks he can show up here spreading lies about Cannon, trying to manipulate me into taking him back.”

ZaZa’s eyes widened as she stared at the splintered doorframe. “You could’ve killed him, Mom.”

“If I wanted to kill him, he’d be dead,” I muttered, tucking the gun more securely into the waistband of my leggings. “I don’t miss when I aim to hit.”

ZaZa backed away from me slowly, like I was a wild animal she didn’t recognize. “You’re scaring me right now.”

The fear in her eyes cut through my rage, bringing me back to reality.

What the hell was I doing? I’d just fired a gun in my own apartment with my daughter home.

This wasn’t me. Or maybe it was exactly who I’d become—a woman with her back against the wall, lashing out at anything that threatened what little I had left.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said, softening my voice. “I shouldn’t have done that. But what your father said about Cannon… I lost it.”

“What did he say?” ZaZa asked, still keeping her distance.

“That Cannon’s been arrested for beating his sister.” I shook my head firmly. “It’s a lie. I know it is.”

But did I? The doubt crept in like poison. I barely knew Cannon, when I really thought about it. A few weeks of intense connection didn’t mean I knew what he was capable of.

No. I pushed the doubt away. I’d seen enough men with violence in their souls to recognize it. Cannon was protective, possessive even, but he wasn’t the kind to hurt a woman. Especially not his sister.

“I need to make some calls,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. “Your interview is soon, right? You should get going.”

ZaZa hesitated, clearly torn between concern for me and her own plans. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine. Go to your interview.” I tried to smile, but it felt brittle on my face. “We’ll talk when you get back.”

After she left, I paced the living room, my thoughts racing.

If Cannon really had been arrested, he’d need a lawyer.

A good one. My first thought was to call Nori—she knew the best criminal defense attorneys in the city.

Her cousin Jerome had gotten off on three separate weapons charges thanks to a lawyer Nori recommended.

I pulled up her contact, my thumb hovering over the call button. Then I remembered our last conversation. The accusations I’d hurled at her about stealing from the club. The way she’d hung up on me. The crack in my phone screen from where I’d slammed it down in anger.

“Shit,” I muttered, closing her contact.

After accusing her of theft, I couldn’t just call and ask for a favor.

I tossed my phone onto the couch and walked to the window, staring out at the city skyline.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the buildings, but I barely noticed the beauty.

All I could think about was Cannon sitting in a jail cell, alone.

I needed to help him, but how? Without Nori, I’d have to find a lawyer on my own.

I grabbed my laptop and sat cross-legged on the couch, searching for “top criminal defense attorneys NYC.” Thousands of results popped up, the names blurring together as I scrolled.

How was I supposed to know who was actually good versus who just had a flashy website?

Part of me still wanted to call Nori. She’d know exactly who to contact, which lawyers specialized in cases like Cannon’s, who had the best relationships with the DAs.

But my pride was a stubborn thing. After accusing her of stealing thirty thousand dollars from my club, I couldn’t just reach out like nothing had happened.

And I still wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t steal from me. I had to figure this out alone.